a fine clump of trees. The name of the valley seems to have deceived
some old writers into thinking it a region of chills and agues and of
cold sour soil. It has always been famous for its oaks, but perhaps it
may claim a greater fame as a minor Wordsworth country, for on the
north side of the vale is Racedown Farm, the home of the poet for
about two years. Dorothy Wordsworth said it was "the place dearest to
my recollections" and "the first home I had." Perhaps the most
striking view in this part of Dorset is that one from the Axminster
road at the point on Raymond's Hill called Red Cross. At dusk, when
the intervening fields and woods are shrouded in gloom, Golden Cap
takes on a startling shape against the evening sky. The huge truncated
cone and the separate bays on either side--mostly differing entirely
in colour--make the centre of as fine a prospect as any in the south.
This road, Roman for the most part, has the rare feature of a tunnel,
cut to make the steep ascent to Hunter's Lodge Inn practicable for
modern traffic.

[Illustration: CHARMOUTH.]

The Marshwood Vale ends at Charmouth, to which the road from
Morecombelake now descends round the northern slopes of Stonebarrow;
on the far side of this hill is the derelict parish of Stanton St.
Gabriel, with a ruined church and two or three cottages in a superb
situation under the shadow of Golden Cap. Charmouth is one long street
running up the hill on the Lyme side of the Char. It is one of those
pleasantly drowsy places that even the advent of the public motor from
Bridport fails to excite. That its restfulness is appreciated is
evidenced by the number of houses that let apartments. The distance
from the railway at Lyme and Bridport will effectually bar any
"development." Jane Austen's description still holds good:--"Its high